Disclaimer: The story, all characters and places of Philosopher's Stone
belong to JK. The Aiwe family (definitely) and anyone else you don't
recognise as existing in the world according to JK (probably) belong to me.
The story of Hecate also belongs to me, although it is laid over
Philosopher's Stone, which I already said wasn't mine. I do not knowingly
plagerise anyone (excepting JK, and I'm sure you will spot when I do -
those bits aren't mine!) but I have read too many fics and if you think
that I have referenced anything you made up, then I appologise in advance
and beg your forgiveness (please do tell me if that happens and I will
credit accordingly). I also don't like typing disclaimers, and so this one
will cover the whole story.
Bright Blessings, Hex
Chapter One: The Last Day in the Caves
A grey darkness permeated the air, and wound itself into the very framework of the building. A small child lay shivering under her blankets as the darkness deepened about her. She hated this world, but it was the only way she could see her father. A thin arm snaked around her and she could sense the older boy's thoughts: You scared? She gave no reply. A cool draught flapped the canvas roof under which the children were sheltered, and a flickering in the distant tunnel indicated her father was returning. Warmth filled her body at the thought and she relaxed into sleep at last, knowing she was safe with her father.
No light penetrated the caves in which the family were sleeping, but the day began as, outside, the sun graced the treetops with a pale morning light. Hecate was not the first to wake, for she heard the welcome crackle of flames and the distinctive sound of boiling water as her father prepared his first drink of the day. Creeping out from under Loki's protective arm, and sidestepping round the hump of blankets, which she assumed to be Artemis, she padded over to sit beside the person she loved most in the world. Samuel Aiwe didn't move as he was joined by his only daughter. The boys, as is not uncommon, slept like the dead and could rarely be roused before mid- morning. Hecate, on the other hand, always rose with the dawn. Now, she cuddled up against him, watching the fire, not appearing to care for interaction on any other level. Sam knew that this outward expression was not to be trusted, and that, in all probability, the child was reading his notes. "Entrancement" "What?" "The next word is entrancement." He marvelled at his daughter. She was not yet eleven, but could easily rival him in knowledge of ancient runes. And he read them for a living. "Oh," he replied absently, "Thank you. Tea?" She nodded and he pulled out a second tin cup.
Samuel Aiwe was a curse breaker for Gringotts in their Nordic sector. This was not so exciting as the Egyptian sector, the Nordic curses being less dramatic, though no less deadly, than their African counterparts. However, he was one of the leading officials in Runes in the country (whereas he barely scraped a pass in his Hieroglyph paper) so he wasn't really complaining. There was only one thing he complained about, and that was not getting to see enough of his children. It wasn't so bad in term-time, as he generally got the weekend off, and could return to England and his family. However, in the summer he hated only being able to see them two days a week and so had them visit him in the heart of Scandinavia, or rather under Scandinavia in the ancient vaults of the Viking wizards, buried in long- forgotten (to the muggles) caves. This was one such occasion. He had the children here for a week, before taking two weeks leave in order to spend the rest of the summer preparing his eldest children, the twins, for Hogwarts. They had not yet received their letters, and he doubted they would before their birthdays. Then he pulled out his pocket watch in horror - the message of "I knew you'd forget!" was scrawled across the screen. It was Loki's birthday! Spending weeks at a time in the darkness could cloud the passing of time. Today was 17th August, and his son was eleven. He quickly crossed their camp to his trunk and began fumbling about for the present. "Forget again?" "No, Hecate darling, I did not." "And I'm a Viking." Oh, why did she have to get the sarcasm from me? In an eerily similar gesture, both parties rolled their eyes.
A grumble in the general direction of the unconscious boys stopped the bickering. At the faint sign of life, Hecate bounded back to the camp bed, pouncing on the semi-conscious body that lay there. "Loki!" "Gerrof, Hex." "Happeeeeeeee Birthdayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" At the (over enthusiastic) mention of birthdays, the boy grinned, pushing his twin off his legs. "Hello ten year old sister." "Hello not-officially-eleven-until-quarter-to-midnight year old brother" She grinned, producing from somewhere on her slight person a wrapped package. As the paper was removed, she motioned to the now-moving object saying offhandedly: "got Dad to charm it." Across his hand stomped a small figure, grey-green cloak falling over chain armour and bearing an axe. The figure was stocky, and had (for the most part) been carved out of clay. On its back, there was a runic inscription, which caused Loki to scowl good-humouredly. "I take it mum helped." "Only a tiny bit." Their mother (a muggle) taught fine art and sculpture at a nearby school. "I love it!" he hugged his sister, "even if it does say that I'm short!" "It only says that you are like Gimli - I know he's your favourite. And you are shorter than me." She gave a devilish grin and leapt deftly off the bed to avoid his tickles. Unfortunately, she forgot her younger brother was currently occupying that part of the floor, and tripped backwards over him. *Oof* "Thanks, Hex." Artemis groaned. "You're welcome." She grinned and skipped over to her father, who was now preparing breakfast. As Loki joined them, Sam revealed a large package. "Alright Dad!" The boy ripped the paper off and let out a squeal of delight. Inside a wooden box lay an ancient looking Viking axe. He lifted it out of the box with a look of awe and his father grinned, then shifted in his seat. "Just. don't tell your mother!" The company burst out laughing.
Hecate was the first to regain her composure, and looked with pleading eyes at her father. "Now, Hecate, you know that your birthday isn't 'till tomorrow." "But Dadeeeeeeeeeeee." she gave her best puppy dog eyes, "Please, daddy. There's only twenty minutes in it!" Fluttering her eyelashes, she continued her pleading gaze. After several minutes, she hadn't wavered and he finally gave in, muttering under his breath: "If your mother ever finds out, I'm a dead man!" as he returned to the trunk. Several minutes of searching later, Hecate was presented with an exceptionally heavy parcel. She carefully removed the wrapping to reveal a large tome, the cover inscription reading "The subtle magic of the Runes". Or at least it would, were the cover inscribed in English. The book, however, was written entirely in the script and language of Old Norse. The girl's eyes bugged and she let out a high-pitched, excited squeal. "Dies Immortalis!* This book is so rare! How in Thor's name did you get hold of it?!" Sam grinned at his daughter. It had taken long enough to track down the copy, which had lain for decades in the attic of a wealthy family well known to his father. Of course, they hadn't minded giving it up, since the ability to read runes had been lost to the family generations back. Still, it had cost him a fair amount, but he knew she would be happy with it. And Samuel Aiwe would do anything to ensure that his daughter was happy. "I have my ways." She ran her fingers lightly over the cover, staring at the book like it might evaporate in her arms, and, without so much as lifting the cover; she re-wrapped the book and held it in her lap. It was far too precious to have out in the dirt of the cave. Not to mention the fact that the light was too poor to read by anyway.
Once breakfast had been eaten and consumed, all eyes turned to Artemis. He shrugged. "Sorry, left 'em at home." Eyes rolled as they looked at the youngest boy. He had definitely inherited his father's scattiness.
While it was effectively a holiday for the children, their father was still officially at work, and so the day began soon after breakfast. The two youngest boys were not informed of the time (about 8:30) or they would have immediately returned to bed. Hecate had packed her present into her shoulder bag, uncaring of the weight: she dared not let the book out of her sight for a minute. At least until they were at home. They headed to the site at which Sam and his team was currently digging*. Hecate and Artemis were eagerly trotting beside their father, the former for her excitement at getting to help her father, the latter because this was the first time he had made such a trip, having previously been deigned 'too young to stay in those ghastly caves' by his mother. Loki followed behind, swinging his new axe at imaginary foes and occasionally muttering of Orcs and Goblins. The eldest of the Aiwe children had developed his mother's obsession with Lord of the Rings.
They arrived at the site and Hecate immediately followed her dad to help with his latest inscription. She had always been fascinated with the runes, and so as soon as she was old enough to sit down with a book (about two and a half) her father had been tutoring her in the ancient language. Loki had taken a slight interest, but had quickly become bored by the tedious process of translations and had only progressed a little in his studies (this still translated as being about OWL level at the age of eleven). Hecate, however, had thrived in the new source of knowledge, and had quickly become fluent. By six, she had been able to do most standard OWL level texts, and by ten, she was able to rival her father, a master in his subject. In fact, Sam had written to Dumbledore on several occasions to request that the girl be able to take her OWL and NEWT in the subject early, but each time the headmaster had replied saying that he thought it wisest to only allow the sitting of such exams at the appropriate age. Sam agreed with this to a point, not wanting his child to tease (or be teased by) other students, but still tried every year. Dumbledore was stubborn as a mule.
The boys quickly became restless, and began to ask relentless questions of their father and his colleagues. "Boys, there is a tour coming by in ten minutes. If you wait quietly, you can go off with them for the day." "Sure." "Thanks Dad." Sam rolled his eyes at the two, and then muttered "Drat!" "Whassup?" Asked Hecate, worriedly. "Oh, I just forgot some of my kit." "I'll go if you like, then you can keep working and your boss won't tell you off again for being forgetful." Sam smiled at his daughter. "You know where the campsite is from here? Past the Odin, take a right through the arch of the Aesir." "Yes, Daddy, I know! It's the green bag?" She received a nod and set off down the chamber past her quarrelling brothers, on her back the bag with her precious birthday present in it.
As she reached the statue of Odin, she heard a rumble and the ground beneath her shuddered. She stopped moving and stared back in the direction of the dig. A loud crash filled the air, along with several shouts and she began to sprint the quarter mile back to her family. After only a few paces, the air suddenly became thick with dust and she fell to the floor, skinning her knees. Ignoring the pain, she pushed herself back up, running at full speed, barely able to breathe. She skidded to a stop as she came to face a large pile of rocks. The tunnel had collapsed and her family was behind the rocks. Screaming their names, reaching out with her heart to them, she threw herself at the wall of rock, dragging away stones that grown men would have had trouble shifting. But the rocks became boulders and her greatest efforts were futile. Screaming, Hecate clawed at the earth, somehow hoping to make a way through. She scraped dirt until she had no nails and her fingers were raw and bleeding - to no effect. Her family was still trapped on the other side of the cave-in. And deep down in her heart, she knew that they were dead.
*******************End of Chapter One**********************
A/N: This is my first HP fic, so play nice! It is based on an RPG character I have, but is intended to be a story in its own right. I warn anyone already hooked that I start back at school (A-levels. Nasty.) soon and thus updates may not be very frequent. Also, I have a brain like a sieve, and so may need reminding that an update is due. That's about it for now, Blessings, Hex * Immortal Gods! (I think I spelt it right) * I figure that some areas of the site must be excavated, and then the curses / inscriptions found there are cracked by people like Sam.
Chapter One: The Last Day in the Caves
A grey darkness permeated the air, and wound itself into the very framework of the building. A small child lay shivering under her blankets as the darkness deepened about her. She hated this world, but it was the only way she could see her father. A thin arm snaked around her and she could sense the older boy's thoughts: You scared? She gave no reply. A cool draught flapped the canvas roof under which the children were sheltered, and a flickering in the distant tunnel indicated her father was returning. Warmth filled her body at the thought and she relaxed into sleep at last, knowing she was safe with her father.
No light penetrated the caves in which the family were sleeping, but the day began as, outside, the sun graced the treetops with a pale morning light. Hecate was not the first to wake, for she heard the welcome crackle of flames and the distinctive sound of boiling water as her father prepared his first drink of the day. Creeping out from under Loki's protective arm, and sidestepping round the hump of blankets, which she assumed to be Artemis, she padded over to sit beside the person she loved most in the world. Samuel Aiwe didn't move as he was joined by his only daughter. The boys, as is not uncommon, slept like the dead and could rarely be roused before mid- morning. Hecate, on the other hand, always rose with the dawn. Now, she cuddled up against him, watching the fire, not appearing to care for interaction on any other level. Sam knew that this outward expression was not to be trusted, and that, in all probability, the child was reading his notes. "Entrancement" "What?" "The next word is entrancement." He marvelled at his daughter. She was not yet eleven, but could easily rival him in knowledge of ancient runes. And he read them for a living. "Oh," he replied absently, "Thank you. Tea?" She nodded and he pulled out a second tin cup.
Samuel Aiwe was a curse breaker for Gringotts in their Nordic sector. This was not so exciting as the Egyptian sector, the Nordic curses being less dramatic, though no less deadly, than their African counterparts. However, he was one of the leading officials in Runes in the country (whereas he barely scraped a pass in his Hieroglyph paper) so he wasn't really complaining. There was only one thing he complained about, and that was not getting to see enough of his children. It wasn't so bad in term-time, as he generally got the weekend off, and could return to England and his family. However, in the summer he hated only being able to see them two days a week and so had them visit him in the heart of Scandinavia, or rather under Scandinavia in the ancient vaults of the Viking wizards, buried in long- forgotten (to the muggles) caves. This was one such occasion. He had the children here for a week, before taking two weeks leave in order to spend the rest of the summer preparing his eldest children, the twins, for Hogwarts. They had not yet received their letters, and he doubted they would before their birthdays. Then he pulled out his pocket watch in horror - the message of "I knew you'd forget!" was scrawled across the screen. It was Loki's birthday! Spending weeks at a time in the darkness could cloud the passing of time. Today was 17th August, and his son was eleven. He quickly crossed their camp to his trunk and began fumbling about for the present. "Forget again?" "No, Hecate darling, I did not." "And I'm a Viking." Oh, why did she have to get the sarcasm from me? In an eerily similar gesture, both parties rolled their eyes.
A grumble in the general direction of the unconscious boys stopped the bickering. At the faint sign of life, Hecate bounded back to the camp bed, pouncing on the semi-conscious body that lay there. "Loki!" "Gerrof, Hex." "Happeeeeeeee Birthdayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" At the (over enthusiastic) mention of birthdays, the boy grinned, pushing his twin off his legs. "Hello ten year old sister." "Hello not-officially-eleven-until-quarter-to-midnight year old brother" She grinned, producing from somewhere on her slight person a wrapped package. As the paper was removed, she motioned to the now-moving object saying offhandedly: "got Dad to charm it." Across his hand stomped a small figure, grey-green cloak falling over chain armour and bearing an axe. The figure was stocky, and had (for the most part) been carved out of clay. On its back, there was a runic inscription, which caused Loki to scowl good-humouredly. "I take it mum helped." "Only a tiny bit." Their mother (a muggle) taught fine art and sculpture at a nearby school. "I love it!" he hugged his sister, "even if it does say that I'm short!" "It only says that you are like Gimli - I know he's your favourite. And you are shorter than me." She gave a devilish grin and leapt deftly off the bed to avoid his tickles. Unfortunately, she forgot her younger brother was currently occupying that part of the floor, and tripped backwards over him. *Oof* "Thanks, Hex." Artemis groaned. "You're welcome." She grinned and skipped over to her father, who was now preparing breakfast. As Loki joined them, Sam revealed a large package. "Alright Dad!" The boy ripped the paper off and let out a squeal of delight. Inside a wooden box lay an ancient looking Viking axe. He lifted it out of the box with a look of awe and his father grinned, then shifted in his seat. "Just. don't tell your mother!" The company burst out laughing.
Hecate was the first to regain her composure, and looked with pleading eyes at her father. "Now, Hecate, you know that your birthday isn't 'till tomorrow." "But Dadeeeeeeeeeeee." she gave her best puppy dog eyes, "Please, daddy. There's only twenty minutes in it!" Fluttering her eyelashes, she continued her pleading gaze. After several minutes, she hadn't wavered and he finally gave in, muttering under his breath: "If your mother ever finds out, I'm a dead man!" as he returned to the trunk. Several minutes of searching later, Hecate was presented with an exceptionally heavy parcel. She carefully removed the wrapping to reveal a large tome, the cover inscription reading "The subtle magic of the Runes". Or at least it would, were the cover inscribed in English. The book, however, was written entirely in the script and language of Old Norse. The girl's eyes bugged and she let out a high-pitched, excited squeal. "Dies Immortalis!* This book is so rare! How in Thor's name did you get hold of it?!" Sam grinned at his daughter. It had taken long enough to track down the copy, which had lain for decades in the attic of a wealthy family well known to his father. Of course, they hadn't minded giving it up, since the ability to read runes had been lost to the family generations back. Still, it had cost him a fair amount, but he knew she would be happy with it. And Samuel Aiwe would do anything to ensure that his daughter was happy. "I have my ways." She ran her fingers lightly over the cover, staring at the book like it might evaporate in her arms, and, without so much as lifting the cover; she re-wrapped the book and held it in her lap. It was far too precious to have out in the dirt of the cave. Not to mention the fact that the light was too poor to read by anyway.
Once breakfast had been eaten and consumed, all eyes turned to Artemis. He shrugged. "Sorry, left 'em at home." Eyes rolled as they looked at the youngest boy. He had definitely inherited his father's scattiness.
While it was effectively a holiday for the children, their father was still officially at work, and so the day began soon after breakfast. The two youngest boys were not informed of the time (about 8:30) or they would have immediately returned to bed. Hecate had packed her present into her shoulder bag, uncaring of the weight: she dared not let the book out of her sight for a minute. At least until they were at home. They headed to the site at which Sam and his team was currently digging*. Hecate and Artemis were eagerly trotting beside their father, the former for her excitement at getting to help her father, the latter because this was the first time he had made such a trip, having previously been deigned 'too young to stay in those ghastly caves' by his mother. Loki followed behind, swinging his new axe at imaginary foes and occasionally muttering of Orcs and Goblins. The eldest of the Aiwe children had developed his mother's obsession with Lord of the Rings.
They arrived at the site and Hecate immediately followed her dad to help with his latest inscription. She had always been fascinated with the runes, and so as soon as she was old enough to sit down with a book (about two and a half) her father had been tutoring her in the ancient language. Loki had taken a slight interest, but had quickly become bored by the tedious process of translations and had only progressed a little in his studies (this still translated as being about OWL level at the age of eleven). Hecate, however, had thrived in the new source of knowledge, and had quickly become fluent. By six, she had been able to do most standard OWL level texts, and by ten, she was able to rival her father, a master in his subject. In fact, Sam had written to Dumbledore on several occasions to request that the girl be able to take her OWL and NEWT in the subject early, but each time the headmaster had replied saying that he thought it wisest to only allow the sitting of such exams at the appropriate age. Sam agreed with this to a point, not wanting his child to tease (or be teased by) other students, but still tried every year. Dumbledore was stubborn as a mule.
The boys quickly became restless, and began to ask relentless questions of their father and his colleagues. "Boys, there is a tour coming by in ten minutes. If you wait quietly, you can go off with them for the day." "Sure." "Thanks Dad." Sam rolled his eyes at the two, and then muttered "Drat!" "Whassup?" Asked Hecate, worriedly. "Oh, I just forgot some of my kit." "I'll go if you like, then you can keep working and your boss won't tell you off again for being forgetful." Sam smiled at his daughter. "You know where the campsite is from here? Past the Odin, take a right through the arch of the Aesir." "Yes, Daddy, I know! It's the green bag?" She received a nod and set off down the chamber past her quarrelling brothers, on her back the bag with her precious birthday present in it.
As she reached the statue of Odin, she heard a rumble and the ground beneath her shuddered. She stopped moving and stared back in the direction of the dig. A loud crash filled the air, along with several shouts and she began to sprint the quarter mile back to her family. After only a few paces, the air suddenly became thick with dust and she fell to the floor, skinning her knees. Ignoring the pain, she pushed herself back up, running at full speed, barely able to breathe. She skidded to a stop as she came to face a large pile of rocks. The tunnel had collapsed and her family was behind the rocks. Screaming their names, reaching out with her heart to them, she threw herself at the wall of rock, dragging away stones that grown men would have had trouble shifting. But the rocks became boulders and her greatest efforts were futile. Screaming, Hecate clawed at the earth, somehow hoping to make a way through. She scraped dirt until she had no nails and her fingers were raw and bleeding - to no effect. Her family was still trapped on the other side of the cave-in. And deep down in her heart, she knew that they were dead.
*******************End of Chapter One**********************
A/N: This is my first HP fic, so play nice! It is based on an RPG character I have, but is intended to be a story in its own right. I warn anyone already hooked that I start back at school (A-levels. Nasty.) soon and thus updates may not be very frequent. Also, I have a brain like a sieve, and so may need reminding that an update is due. That's about it for now, Blessings, Hex * Immortal Gods! (I think I spelt it right) * I figure that some areas of the site must be excavated, and then the curses / inscriptions found there are cracked by people like Sam.